


Five Times Jim Used Mistletoe and Failed and the One Time Spock Turned It On Him

by marlee813



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: First Time, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mistletoe, Sassy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-02
Updated: 2012-04-02
Packaged: 2017-11-02 23:11:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marlee813/pseuds/marlee813
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk chases Spock around the Enterprise, mistletoe in hand, while Spock uses every trick in he can to evade Kirk. Kirk is sly though and eventually corners his prey. <i>Or does he?</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Jim Used Mistletoe and Failed and the One Time Spock Turned It On Him

**Five.**

Jim had Spock cornered; his hip, clothed in tightly fitted jeans was cocked against the table where Spock sat. 

They were in the science labs, only a skeleton crew present ever since Jim had given the majority of the crew time off for Christmas. Spock had been eagerly (well eager for a Vulcan) awaiting the results of his latest science experiment when Jim had... sauntered in, there was no other word for it. He was in off-duty clothing and his shirt had Spock convinced that it was made to perfectly match the colour of Jim's eyes. In his hand, the reason Jim had come to see him so late in the night, was a bough of mistletoe. 

"Jim, I must advise you, this is highly inappropriate, given our... location." 

The air to Spock's right shifted and he could feel more than see Jim's body growing nearer to his own. His heart rate had sped up by 12.54% and he could feel his breathing grow shallow, staccato. 

Spock glanced up at Jim almost shyly, his eyelids growing heavy. As Jim made to move forward, a cough to Spock's left had them both pulling away as if burned; Spock (and apparently the captain as well) had momentarily forgotten that there were an additional fourteen people sequestered throughout the lab. Spock turned, his face flushing slightly, "Ensign Barrows?" 

"Commander Spock, results of experiment 78240HW that you requested." 

"Thank you, Ensign," Spock replied, taking the PADD; when she did not leave immediately he looked up, catching her as she glanced between the two men. He growled, low, "dismissed Ensign." She was momentarily panicked, before she flitted off with a whispered “yes, sir”.

He didn't need to look at Jim's face to see that he was smiling. And it did nothing to calm the torrent of emotions he was feeling. 

"Jim." Spock said warningly, his eyes flashing heat. 

"Spock." Jim echoed, a smirk playing on the corners of his mouth, something that Spock felt illogically drawn by. He needed to put an end to this. 

"Jim, may I see the mistletoe?" He sounded composed, a feat for which Spock could attribute to his mastery of advanced meditation.

Jim's eyes lit up, "of course, Mr. Spock. Ever the scientist." 

Before Jim could blink, Spock had put the repugnant mistletoe in its proper place; atop the lit Bunsen burner. Its leaves caught fire immediately. 

"Hey!" Jim squealed, "Sulu is going to kill me!" He pouted, an action which pleased Spock greatly and one in which he tried to elicit as often as possible.

Spock just ignored Jim's protestations and watched the flames, "fascinating."

**Four.**

Spock was currently 23.4 feet up inside a Jeffries tube; the muffled noises from outside in engineering were a welcome distraction. Spock would never admit it, but his human heritage was prone to giving way to illogical phobias; one such phobia was currently making itself known. He worked fast (and yet efficiently) so that he could stop measuring the number of injuries he could receive if he were to fall the 23.4(3) feet.

The noises from outside the Jeffries tube grew louder and more insistent, one such voice standing out amongst the rest due to his Vulcan hearing. It had Spock shaking for reasons not attributable to his fear. 

"Oh come on, Scotty. I need to make sure he's ok." Jim laughed and added, "he's got a fear of heights ya know."

Spock raised an eyebrow, unsure how Jim was aware. They had never discussed it and surely his self-control would make it almost impossible to detect. 

"Aye Captain," Spock could hear the eye roll, "whate'er excuse ya need ta give yerself." Spock's eyes widened imperceptibly at the blatant insubordination but Jim just laughed harder. 

The sound of Jim's boots hitting the rungs as he climbed his way up had Spock attempting to compose himself, both at his illogical fear of heights and at his soon to be close proximity to his captain. 

"Captain, may I inquire as to why you have attempted to come up here?" 

Jim slowly maneuvered himself between the metal tubing and Spock's body; his insistent nature had Spock slowing his breathing in an attempt to get his body under control.

"Just came to see how you were doing." Jim's eyes showed nothing but compassion and concern and Spock's heart gave an illogical flip at the kind expression on his friends face.

"I assure you, Jim. I am well." His eyes, always said to be more human than Vulcan, must have hinted at something different because the in the next moment Jim's hand had slowly maneuvered its way onto Spock's arm. He stared at it, unblinking.

Jim smiled and slowly trailed his fingers up Spock's arm, yet even more mistletoe placed precariously in his palm. Spock repressed a sigh; it seemed Jim was insatiable in his need to unravel Spock's carefully crafted control. His fingers continued to trail hail fire and the tingling feeling was slowly but surely manifesting itself into unmitigated lust. There was no possible way Mr. Scott would allow this in his Jeffries tube. He needed to put an end to this. 

"Jim, may I see the mistletoe? I believe I failed to adequately study it previously." 

Jim's eyes narrowed and he pulled the mistletoe and his hand away from Spock's shoulder; knowing full well that Spock would not attempt to move to get it. "Oh no, don't think I'm falling for this again, Spock. I had to beg... beg to get Sulu to agree to give me more." 

"I have no way of causing irreparable harm to your... mistletoe. Last I checked, fires in the Jeffries tubes were in violation of Starfleet code 38244X."

Jim smiled, his eyes crinkling endearingly at the corners, "I can't deny you anything, Spock."

Spock's eyebrow rose, "technically you can, Jim. You are my superior officer."

Jim laughed, and slowly handed the mistletoe to Spock. Spock took one loathe minute to attempt to stare at it in contemplation as if it was the most interesting object before he let the green leaves fall unbidden from his fingers. 

Jim just gaped at Spock in wonderment as the mistletoe met its demise at the bottom of the tube. 

"I believe a saying that would fit this moment quite nicely would be 'oops'."

**Three.**

The sickbay was a quiet reprieve from where Spock had spent the previous five hours; stationed on Altair V for a last minute holiday shopping run had Spock and Jim stopping in for a 'last minute drink'. Or so Spock had thought.

"Jesus Christ Spock," Doctor McCoy bellowed, "don't you understand your own physiology? Milkshakes?!"

Spock raised a tentative hand to his throbbing temple. It had been a reprieve, until the doctor had found out.

"I am well aware of my physiology, doctor," Spock replied as calmly as he could, "however, Jim informed me that drinking was a festivity one needed to participate in during the holidays. I could not, as you would say, 'let him down'."

"Oh of course you couldn't let him down," Doctor McCoy teased, chuckling to himself as if there was a joke Spock wasn't privy to. Spock ignored it. 

"How's the head, Mr. Spock?"

Spock sighed, the pain radiating even more, especially in the now harsh lights of sickbay, "I believe I have a headache. As I have seen you administer a pain reliever to the captain on numerous occasions, I fail to see why you are taking so long."

McCoy clucked his tongue in a very unattractive manner and waved the hypospray enticingly in front of Spock's face, "what you have Mr. Spock is the start of a hangover. And I'm not giving you anything until your body has metabolized more of that chocolate." 

McCoy cocked his head towards the bed, "now sit your damn fool ass down on this bed and wait."

Spock hesitated before relenting, he wished to argue the merits of receiving the hypospray now, but did not wish to hear more of the doctors most annoying tone.

Not ten seconds had passed - and how bizarre was that? The headache must have been more powerful than Spock had previously ascertained - before the doors swooshed open and one Starfleet Captain came stumbling in. 

"Spock?" Jim questioned as he made his way through sickbay, locating Spock and smiling at him, his face flushed from what Spock assumed to be alcohol. 

"Hello, Jim." 

The sound must have alerted Doctor McCoy because in the next moment he was out of his office, "Jim?! I swear to god I'm going to snap your fool neck."

Jim held his hands up in the universal sign of surrender, his face smiling sheepishly up at the doctor, "'m sorry, Bones. Ok? We just had a few too many." 

"I don't believe that for a second mister," Doctor McCoy implored, "empty your pants pockets." 

"Doctor -" Spock made to protest before the doctor raised a hand. Asking another crew member and especially ones captain to remove anything without irrefutable proof of wrongdoing was in violation of 18 Starfleet regulations.

"Bones..." Jim sounded worried? No. Embarrassed. The whole scene had Spock's eyebrow skyrocketing up his forehead. 

"Jimmy, don't make me ask you again." Jim did a he was told, in his right pocket was again, another bough of mistletoe. Jim hung his head as the doctor waved the plant in the air with a flourish. 

"Oh so now you're getting him drunk so that he'll fall for your stupid, immature mistletoe escapades. I swear to you Jimmy, chasing him around this damn ship asking him to kiss you! What are you, twelve?!" And then the doctor began to laugh. 

"Ugh, shut up, Bones!" The scene would have been completed had Jim stomped his foot in anger; the thought had Spock repressing what appeared to be a laugh at the image. 

Spock, so caught up in what was transpiring before his eyes, did not even feel the hiss of the hypospray before he floated off into a much needed sleep.

**Two.**

The mess hall was fairly empty given that gamma shift had yet to finish. Spock sat alone, finishing off his fruit plate when he heard the unmistakable noises of Jim arguing with Doctor McCoy as they made their way over.

"- wake me up for this shit. I swear to god Jim if this doesn't work out you owe me Saurian Brandy at our next shore leave."

Jim just ignored him, "hey, Spock." 

"Hello, Jim," Spock's eyebrow lifted, "what are you and the doctor doing up at this time? You are not usually in the mess hall until after gamma shift has retired." 

McCoy grumbled, muttering, "hell if I know" under his breath as he sat down across from Spock.

Jim sidled in against Spock’s side, his warmth a pressing need that Spock did not know he needed until at that time. He felt himself melt into the touch and watched as the doctor’s eyes bulged even further out of his head.

“Get a room, you two.” 

“Just ignore him, Spock. He’s grumpy in the morning.” Jim retorted back, turning his head slightly so he caught Spock’s eyes. He smiled.

The remainder of their meal was ordinary at best; Jim would turn to look at him every few minutes or so and the doctor would then proceed to either choke on his food in a most unbecoming manner or make fake retching noises. Spock attributed that to the doctor’s growing insanity and it had Jim kicking him under the table. However, the hand that soon appeared on his thigh was extremely unordinary, “Jim?”

Jim smiled wryly and the hand inched further up; Spock did not attempt to remove the hand, which was both expected and yet unexpected as more people began to file in the hall.

“Jim,” Spock gasped. 

Jim’s hand momentarily disappeared before it appeared once more; the mistletoe sticking out between Jim’s fingers. Spock felt the illogical urge to _facepalm_ as Uhura had previously explained and yet wanted to kiss the smug look off of Jim’s face in the next instant. He decided words were better than both alternative solutions. At least at this juncture.

“How do you procure so many boughs of mistletoe? I believed that plant to be an endangered species on Earth.”

“I have my ways, Spock.” Jim replied, the sound of the doctor gagging in the background did nothing to change the way it felt when Jim pressed closer.

“I am sure you do, Jim. You are very crafty when you want to be.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

It took 6.421 seconds before Spock realized that their mouths were only a scant two inches apart and he pulled away with a wretched breath. In the next moment he was up, tugging on his uniform self-consciously.

“I believe I must depart. My shift starts in approximately 4.18 minutes. I will leave you to your meal.”

The wink that Jim shot him as he left through the doors had Spock consciously willing his erection away in the turbolift as he made his way to the bridge.

**One.**

“Jim?” Spock inquired as he moved his rook, “is there a particular reason why the only place in the observation deck that has mistletoe hanging from the ceiling happens to be where we are sitting?” Spock knew full well that this was Jim’s doing, but in all honesty he was growing tired of having to reject all of his captain’s advances for the sake of propriety.

“Noticed that did ya? I just wanted to see if today would be the day you’d finally give in.” Jim answered, moving to capture one of Spock’s pawns.

Spock was unsure, while his very body hummed in appreciation at the thought of pressing his lips against Jim’s, he was still illogically satisfied at ‘having the upper hand’.

He shrugged, “perhaps.”

Jim chuckled, and moved his queen, “check. Mr. Spock, it seems like you’re off your game.” Spock successfully escaped his check and moved his queen to a safer location, “it could be because you insist on rubbing your foot against my calf. It is most distracting.”

“I can do other ‘things’ that are even more distracting.” The foot inched higher, until it was resting precariously in between Spock’s thighs. Spock placed his fingers gently around Jim’s ankle, teasing the hair lightly between his fingers. Jim leaned forward onto his elbows, the game completely forgotten between them.

“Fuck, Spock. Please let me kiss you.”

“I am finding it harder and harder to resist you, Jim.” Jim stood, his foot landing on the floor with a thud – Spock missed it immediately – and made his way around to Spock’s side of the table. He reached his hand out, splaying his fingers across Spock’s lip and he licked it unconsciously. Jim hissed and pushed forward, their lips so close that Spock ached to close the distance between them.

“Mistletoe dictates that I need to kiss you now, Spock. It is officially in its rightful place.”

A sudden clatter and the swooshing of the door signaled the entrance of two strangers, more invested in each other than Jim and Spock. They stared wide eyed as the bigger of the two men pushed the other one up against the bulkhead.

“Jesus, Pavel.”

“Da, Hikaru, you feel so good.”

It only took a second before Jim was shaking beside him, struggling to contain his laughter. Spock could only stare wide-eyed as he watched his two fellow bridge officers rubbing against each other in a most sexual manner. 

“Gentleman, care to relocate that.” Jim finally said once he’d recovered. Both Sulu and Chekov had fled, muttering under their breath and apologizing profusely. Jim had waved them off while Spock stayed silent.

“Well there goes that mood.” 

“Indeed.”

**+1**

The party was in full swing. And according to Spock, was a raving success. He sat huddled by the bar, drinking his Altair water and observed from afar, too careful to let his close proximity with Jim ruin his plan.

He watched as Jim danced with nearly everyone, although his eyes at all times were fixated on Spock. Every hip grind and smile had Spock clutching his water closer, a desperately needed crutch to hold onto in case he lost his well controlled composure.

Then it happened.

It started with Nyota, who after a long discussion, had agreed to start the beginning of the events that would hopefully solidify his growing relationship with his captain. The song began slowly, the music both a welcome and regret. Spock stood and made his way through the crowd, watching with keen interest as Nyota began waving the mistletoe above Jim’s head. He began to laugh, his face warming as he leaned forward and quickly kissed her on the cheek; she whispered something in his ear and shook her head, pointing in Spock’s direction.

Spock, without a moment’s hesitation, crossed the threshold into Jim’s personal space. It seemed like his world had narrowed down to this very moment. Jim’s eyes were warm with mirth and something else Spock couldn’t place, the cheers of ‘kiss, kiss, kiss’ drawing further out of his consciousness the longer he glanced into those eyes. He crossed the final barrier, his lips finally slotting against Jim’s as if they had always done this.

The hollering, cheering and mutterings of ‘oh thank Christ’ – one could only wonder who _that_ was - from around them had Jim laughing into his mouth as he pulled away, “I had planned to do that later, Spock.” Although Jim could barely keep his hands off him, nuzzling his cheek and kissing Spock’s lips.

“I believe the term is ‘I win’, Jim.” He let the corners of his mouth twitch up, to show Jim just how much he had enjoyed this and Jim wrapped his arms around him. The last thing he heard before Jim had consumed him once more was, “hey, Bones, I told you it would happen!”

The End


End file.
